


Sixty Minutes

by raulism



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Angst, Body Horror Reference, F/M, Fluff, Oral Sex, Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-19
Updated: 2016-08-19
Packaged: 2018-08-09 17:23:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7810687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raulism/pseuds/raulism
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tumblr request: "Imagine having a conjugal visit with Frederick."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sixty Minutes

You’d done your research, wanting to know ahead of time what to expect. And everyone on the forum you found had been right - this was insanely humiliating.

Bent over and naked, you took deep breaths and tried to focus on what really mattered here as the two guards finished their cavity search. And it really could be worse, at least they were female guards. Plus, you couldn’t blame them for doing their job and trying to keep the inmate population safe.

You knew how vulnerable he felt inside, rarely sleeping and always on high alert. He didn’t like to tell you, didn’t want you to fret even more over him, but it would have been impossible to not notice how tired he always sounded now.

The fear in his voice during one of those precious calls, the knot of tears stuck in his throat as he unhappily mentioned another close call in the yard had been the final straw for you. Marching down to the FBI office the next day, you had demanded this visit from Jack Crawford, refusing to leave and throwing all of his mistakes that had gotten your husband shot at him until he finally agreed.

“Alright, Mrs. Chilton, you may get dressed now.”

Despite everything, you found yourself smiling as you pulled your dress back over your head. You were so close now, mere minutes away from finally getting to hold him in your arms for the first time in months.

There was only so far that phone calls and visits occurring through six inches of glass could get you. You missed him in the most acute way possible, thought about him at all times, and frequently woke up with nightmares of his potential fate.

Following a new guard down a long hallway, your legs felt weak, your arms beginning to tremble at the thought of finally touching him. Each step closer increased your anxiety, your heart pounding in your chest until it threatened to break free.

“You got sixty minutes. Make ‘em count.” The guard’s sleazy grin would have normally made your skin crawl but right now, he didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except the man waiting for you on the other side of the door that was being unlocked.

“Frederick!”

His face snapped up, the tears already evident in his eyes as he lurched to his feet and crossed the room in an instant. Wrapping you in the tightest hug of your life, you felt your lungs grow desperate for air, but you couldn’t make yourself care, unwilling to add even a centimeter of space between you and him.

“Oh, god,” His voice was low, muffled in your hair as he nuzzled your neck. You could feel his chest expand as he took a deep breath of your scent, and your shoulder was growing damp from his crying. “I’ve missed you so fucking much, my love.”

“I know, Freddy, I know. Me too.” Your hands rubbed slow circles across his back, your go-to way to relax him when he awoke screaming in the middle of the night from another dream filled with horror.

Only this time, it was real. And even his cruel imagination hadn’t thought to design the scenario he was currently in.

Taking his face in your hands, you gazed at his newly changed features. The evidence of being shot in the face and surviving looked different here, more raw and severe without the glass between you. His left eye was now milky-white, unfocused and drooping, pulled down towards his chin without the support of his missing piece of jaw. And the bullet hole on his cheek demanded attention, an angry red, fresh scar, slightly raised to your touch.

He watched you look at him, his good eye forlorn enough for two and his expression troubled. You’d told him countless times that it didn’t matter; his hand pressed against the glass mirroring your own and his voice sounding distant through the telephone despite the fact that you were less than a foot apart.

Every time you had seen him, you had told him. But he had never believed you, his doubt etched in every feature of his face. Knowing his personality, he might never fully psychologically recover from such a noticeable injury, but none of it mattered to you.

So you told him again, “You’re still so handsome.”

His head dipped in shame but a small smile curled at his lips, “I never was, my love, you’re the only one who thought that.”

Your mouth opened to deny his statement but he continued before the words fully formed in your throat.

“But that doesn’t matter. I don’t need anyone but you.”

He pulled you in for a kiss, deep and affectionate, every ounce of his need evident as his tongue twisted with yours. Pressing his hands against your back, he brought you flush against his body, pushing hard as if he could fuse himself to you.

You only pulled him tighter, hungry for more but unwilling yet to lose even a fraction of the intimacy. He peppered your face with kisses, whispering words of love as he traveled down your neck. His plan was obvious, he’d always been the most generous lover you’d ever had, but that wasn’t what you wanted today.

Today was all about him. So you stopped him, straightening his spine with a hand against each shoulder before moving them to lift the hem of your dress. His eyes followed, widening slightly with each new inch of exposed skin as his tongue darted out to wet his lips.

He stepped closer to touch, his fingers running along your ribs and settling on your hips. You could feel the tremble in his body as you removed his shirt and pants, palming him through his underwear before pulling those down too.

“Oh, god, it’s been so long.” He slumped against you a little, his expression turning hazy as you began to stroke him. Pushing him to sit on the bed, you dropped to your knees in front of him, making sure he was watching you before sliding your tongue up his length.

“Fuck, I don’t—“ You moaned at the taste of him as your tongue swirled around his head, cutting off his words. His hands automatically twisted into your hair as his thighs flexed with the effort of trying to stay still. Not needing any further encouragement, you took him in fully, allowing him to bump against the back of your throat.

You had missed this; missed the heavy feel of him in your mouth, missed his whimpers and the way his fingers always lightly massaged your scalp.

Hollowing your cheeks, you bobbed faster, determined to make him come and give him a moment of reprieve from the fear that had lately become his entire life.

“No, love, seriously, if you don’t stop, I’ll…” But only ignored him, speeding up as his hips began to jump towards you. You could tell that he was close and you needed this for him. Adding one hand around his cock, and the other lightly cupping his balls, you gave him a final deep suck, drawing his orgasm from him.

He came with a yelp, his hands holding your head steady as he began to thrust into your mouth. It was making your eyes water and your nose start to run but you couldn’t care less as the moment seemed to extend forever. When he finally stopped, you swallowed quickly, wiping off the cum that had dripped down your chin while he collapsed on the bed.

“Shit, I’m sorry. I haven’t been able to…you know, since I’ve been here.”

His words surprised you. Frederick was a needy man, with a libido to shame a teenage. There was no way he hadn’t masturbated in months, right?

“Wait, really?”

Shaking his head, he pulled you onto his lap, burrowing his nose into your neck, “Yeah. It makes me too nervous.”

The thought broke your heart as you imagined Frederick’s days spent always looking over his shoulder, never knowing if he was truly safe or not. You wanted to tell him that he’d get out soon, but would he?

There had never been a moment of doubt in your mind, and you fiercely defended him every chance you got. But that didn’t mean the real Chesapeake Ripper would be caught any faster. Frederick was convinced it was Hannibal, but all of his suspicions and reasons had fallen on deaf ears at the FBI, and had landed him here instead.

His fingers had trailed down your stomach while you were lost in thought and you jumped in surprise when he slid two of them inside of you. Inhaling deeply against your skin, he chuckled at finding you so wet from only having pleasured him before beginning to suck at your neck.

Crooking them forward, he began to thrust slowly, his thumb pressing against your clit at the same time. You instinctively rocked against him, riding his hand as your need urged you on, drawing you closer to your orgasm at record speed. But his fingers weren’t exactly what you wanted from him.

“Please, Frederick, I need _you._ Inside of me.”

“I will be soon, love. But first, I want you to come for me now.”

You shook your head for no reason at his words, already knowing you wouldn’t be able to last much longer. His thumb pushed down harder, rubbing up and down so slowly you thought you might lose your mind.

“Yes, yes, come on. Come on, come for me.” His words sent you over the edge and his mouth caught your own, swallowing your moans as you twitched around his fingers. “My good girl, I’ve missed you.”

A knock on the door shook you out of your daze. “Thirty minutes left!”

“Fuck off!”

Frederick’s words sent you into a laughing fit, his eyebrow quirking as he watched you giggle, happiness dancing in his good eye.

“What?”

“Nothing, you’re just ridiculous.”

“Mm, ridiculous? That’s what you’re going with?” His voice dropped lower, growling in your ear as he flipped you over and under him. He wrapped your legs around his waist before entering you in a single thrust, his hips settling over yours in the most familiar way.

The size of him made you gasp, having been without him for too long, and you clutched at his biceps as he slowly pulled back out.

“Oh my god.” He pushed back in, faster this time, one of his hands gripping your chin and turning your eyes towards him. His face was soft, relaxed with desire and emotion, and the sight made your heart clench. “I love you so much, Frederick.”

His hips stuttered in their thrusting as he let out a deep sigh, his head dipping to kiss you his answer. You grabbed his ass, spurring him on and hitching your knees over his shoulders, allowing him in ever deeper.

“I don’t think I can…” He moaned, cutting off his sentence as you clenched around him.

But you knew what he was about to say and you didn’t care. “That’s okay, I want you to.” He was too close again, already straining to prolong his orgasm and he was going to get there before you.

“Oh, god.” He gritted his teeth in his determination, every muscle in his body taunt as his thrusting grew more sporadic. You weren’t concerned with your own pleasure at this point, instead relishing in the sight of his handsome face and the sound of his ragged breathing and his skin touching yours.

You stroked a hand across his stubble, his head leaning into your palm as his eyes fluttered closed. Stretching your neck forward, you planted a kiss over the scar on his cheek, causing Frederick to whimper.

His orgasm followed right after, a desperate thing that drew your name from his lips. It was quicker this time and he dropped on top of you afterwards, exhausted and sated as you lightly scratched patterns into his back with your nails.

“Fuck. I’m sorry, love.” He moved to pull out of you but you stopped him, not wanting to lose any contact with him. “Don’t you want me to finish you off?”

But you only shook your head, pulling his weight back over you. “How much time do we have left?”

He turned towards the clock, “Twenty minutes.”

“Then no. I just want you to hold me.”

The tears were back in his eyes, his arms wrapping tightly around your waist and shifting the two of you onto your sides. You always fit so well into him, like your body had been made to nest in his. And this was what you had really missed the most over these few long months; the sense of security and tenderness only he could give you.

They were the quickest twenty minutes of your life and too soon the guard was back, knocking on the door and demanding you to ‘Hurry up!’

You were both crying as you despondently got dressed; the mood in the room now melancholy as he kissed you one final time, as his hand gripped yours painful tight before opening the door.

It was worse than ever before, having to leave him all alone in such a horrible place after having been able to touch him.

He hugged you as close to his body as possible, whispering your favorite words of love into your ear before the guard broke you apart. Another had arrived, and he shackled Frederick’s wrists back together before leading him away from you, in the wrong direction of home, of where he _should_ be going.

Each step took him further and your sobs began to rip through your chest at the sight of his retreating form. Frederick kept his head turned over his shoulder the entire time, his eyes locked with yours, his muscles again tight with the fear displayed in his expression. He mouthed ‘I love you’ just before being pushed through a door, the sound of metal slamming behind him and sealing his continued fate.

You wrapped yourself up in his clothes when you got home, needing to smell his unique scent as you fell asleep, utterly spent from your tears and your worrying and your broken heart.


End file.
